


"Matt, this's the team."

by HelSpawn02



Series: Hawkdevil [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Another one of those fics, Canon Disabled Character, Clint is a good bf, M/M, matt meets the avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 23:38:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17334515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelSpawn02/pseuds/HelSpawn02
Summary: Clint and Matt are having a quiet day together while the rest of the team is supposed to be gone. They came back early, and Matt, though he will deny it, freaks out a little.





	"Matt, this's the team."

**Author's Note:**

> My first post to the Archive! Hope you all enjoy

Clint shifts in his seat and Matt pulls his knees to his chest for a moment so he can stand. Matt has earbuds in and music playing, but he can still hear Clint, who presses a kiss to his hairline and says loudly, "Gotta get some'in'. Be right back, babes."

Matt hums and stretches his legs over Clint's spot of the couch. He continues running his fingers over the raised dots of letters in his book as Clint walks down the hall. He zones out again after that. Nothing hits him as strange, out of the ordinary, or harmful, so he turns his music up a little more. Everything is calm.

Everything is perfectly fine while he reads as he waits for Clint to get back. And then, he hears the elevator starting to slow towards a stop on this floor. Weird. He didn't recall Clint taking the elevator.

He closed his book and pulled out his headphones, setting the book and his phone on the table beside the couch. Getting up, he should probably go find Clint, instead he heads to the small kitchen to grab a knife, one of the ones Clint hides everywhere in case someone ever broke in even though it was inprobable. He holds it tight before running at a pillar, kicking off and pulling himself up into the accesible vents. Matt quiets his breathing, forces his heart to slow.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. The quiet voices become more clear alongside their unusual heartbeats. 

"-en we can get onto debrief," a man says. "Maybe we should bring him next time either way."

"With his arms like that, he couldn't shoot like he normally does," a woman points out. She steps into the kitchen and the first thing she does is check for the knives, as if it's instinct. Her breath hitches.

"Yeah, yeah," the man with an artificial hum over his heart says. The woman moves quickly to the common space where Matt's things are. She brushes her fingers over the edge of his glasses and picks up the book. "We all know you know him better than anyone, Nat."

Nat holds up the book for the others to see. "Bruce, you calm enough for debrief?"

"Yeah, I'm good to go," Bruce, the man who smells more chemical than human, says, sticking close to the elevator. "Tony?"

"I might turn up just a little late, may need to make a call to Underoos." Tony is the man with the artificial hum. He reaches to his ticking watch.

"Nat, you know where he is?" The last one asks. He looks over at Matt's cane, half-hidden by coats and propped up in the corner of the room. He starts walking the edge of the room.

"Dunno, but I know he's sneaky little thing." Matt can't tell if she's talking about him or Clint. Speaking of, where is he? Matt was really starting to hope he would show up out of the blue right about now.

Before he can think about what to do, Nat is dragging him down to the ground by his shirt. Ice-cold adrenaline starts rushing. He swings at her with the knife, and she lets go in time to dodge. Matt rolls when he hits the ground, hearing some sort of weapon charging loudly as he stands. It doesn't finish, thanks to Matt throwing the knife at it. Tony whimpers. Matt backs up, back pressed against the floor-to-ceiling windows. The Nameless one comes at him from one side and he shifts just out of reach of his fist. His side aches fron the sharp movement he feels pulling at his stitches.

He needs Clint. Now.

Nameless comes at him again. Matt moves out of the way, his stitches pulling dangerously close to busting. Matt hits the wall. He keeps moving and he can hear Nat coming in, Tony moving in front of Bruce. He throws an elbow back against the wall despite the ache it brings. Once, twice. Nameless hits the wall and Nat just barely misses him as he dodges out of the way. He turns, hands hovering over his sides, listening, but the next hit never comes.

A slow, steady heart. Clint's slow, steady heart. 

"Clint, what the hell is going on," Nat demands. "Who is he?"

"He threw a knife at me!" Tony yells from the corner. "A knife!"

"Clint?" Nameless inquires. Bruce doesn't say anything.

Clint takes Matt's hand, grounding him. He lets himself relax a little, falling out of the defensive position. He mores his spare hand up to Clint's elbow, making him look towards him. Matt hadn't looked up until that point. "What's going on?" He asks. Acting innocent and even scared.

"Y'made a lil' mistake, Matty," Clint answers, playing along. "S'all good now. These're my teammates." He looks to the others. "Guys, this's Matt. My boyfriend."

"Well your 'boyfriend' or whatever threw a knife at me," Tony hisses. "And tried to stab Natasha!"

"Stark, he can't aim fer crap, 'e's blind," Clint says. _Stark_ starts whispering to himself about 'you mean I could have been killed?!' and Matt takes a minute to process this.

He had attacked his boyfriend's best friend and _the_ Tony Stark. Sure, he's more upset about Natasha than Stark, but Stark would have been one hell of a problem.

They quickly blow through introductions before people start debating. Nameless, now known as Rogers, was quick to start scolding Clint on letting a blind man use a weapon and access the vents where he could harm himself. During that conversation, Matt slipped away and moved around the couch towards his things.

He tapped the table gently, touching his glasses. He put them on. He knew how unsettling his eyes were. How some people tried not to look at them.

" _Foggy. Foggy. Foggy. Fogg_ -"

Matt grabbed his phone, fumbling to take out his headphones and answer the call. The room quieted. "Hey, Foggy," Matt said. "What's up?"

"I know you're having a chill day with your sweetheart, but Karen's out from donating blood and I need help with the Cortez case. Could you come in?" Foggy asked. He quickly added, "You don't have too."

"No, I'm safe to come in, it's okay," Matt assured him. "I'm not getting changed though. Give me an hour."

"You, Matthew, are a saint," Foggy sighed in relief.

"Not a saint, Fog," Matt reminded him. "The opposite."

"See you in an hour, St. Matthew," Foggy chirped and hung up.

Matt sighed. Natasha placed a hand on his shoulder, "You leaving?"

"Yes, unfortunately. Foggy's my best friend and partner from work, he needs help with a case," Matt explained, looking for his book. His fingers brushed the cover and he dragged his messenger bag from under the table, putting his things inside. "And I apologize for attacking you, I didn't know who was there and I got . . . Either way, sorry."

"Apology accepted. Case?"

"I'm a lawyer. I have my own practice with Foggy in Hell's Kitchen, it's called Nelson And Murdock," he elaborated, standing. He slowly found his way to a wall, walking alongside it to find his jacket and cane. Natasha tapped Clint's arm, pointing towards Matt. He was already walking his way when Matt turned to address him, "Bird brain?"

"Yea, hun?" Clint asked, reaching over to take his arm.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go. Foggy needs help at the office," Matt said.

"'S'alright. Y'want me t' guide you downstairs?" Matt shook his head. "'Kay. Call me later? We can make- better- plans," Clint said. Matt gave a soft laugh, agreeing. 

They shared a short kiss and then Matt was on his way, with a quick apology for attacking the Avengers ~~(Avengers! Of all people!)~~ and left.

Oh, Foggy would never let him hear the end of it.


End file.
